


Scars, Both Literal and Figurative

by orphan_account



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7786006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Erin first heard a sharp crackle of electricity and the sound of something crashing to the floor, she only turned her head slightly to the side, calling out a reflexive, “You okay over there?” without really looking up. She was busy reading over her notes, and crashes and minor explosions were daily experiences in Holtzmann’s lab.</p><p>“Shit, shit, shit.”</p><p>That got Erin’s attention. </p><p>--</p><p>(Or: The one where a minor lab accident gives way to unexpectedly deep conversations about childhood scars, both literally and figuratively.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars, Both Literal and Figurative

When Erin first heard a sharp crackle of electricity and the sound of something crashing to the floor, she only turned her head slightly to the side, calling out a reflexive, “You okay over there?” without really looking up. She was busy reading over her notes, and crashes and minor explosions were daily experiences in Holtzmann’s lab.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

That got Erin’s attention. She looked up then, eyes going to Holtzmann, who was in the process of hastily kicking off her boots while simultaneously tearing off her rubber work gloves. Smoke was rising out of the machine she had been working on next to her as well as off of her upper right arm.

“Holtzmann?” Erin called, louder now. Holtzmann didn’t look up at her, instead stripping off her smoking lab coat in a rough motion, throwing it to the floor before tearing off her overalls and her shirt beneath that. When she was stripped down to just her bra and boxers—both plain black, unexpectedly and disappointingly normal for Holtzmann, a very distant part of Erin’s brain noted—, she rushed over to the lab sink, twisting it on and shoving her upper arm under the stream of water. She let out a loud hiss when the water hit her skin, face twisting up in pain.

Erin, who had been sitting still up until that point, not sure what to make of the situation, finally jumped to the feet. “Oh god, Holtz, are you okay? What happened?”

Holtzmann twisted her neck so that she was peering over her shoulder at Erin, arm still under the faucet. She gave Erin a grin.

“Peachy-kean, jelly-bean,” she said. Her voice was slightly strained, a notch too high to sound natural.

“You’re not fine,” Erin said, making her way toward Holtzmann. “Is that—did you burn yourself?”

“It's just a flesh wound,” Holtzmann said, saluting her with her free hand.

“Holtzmann.”

“s’fine, Erin, really. Just a little burn. Second-degree, tops. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over.”

“Second degree burns are something to worry about.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“That’s—that’s not comforting.”

“Don’t _worry_.” Holtzmann drew out the syllables in the last word, punctuating it with a pout. Erin sighed. She was next to Holtzmann now, close enough to see the red patch of skin on her bicep under the faucet. The running water kept her from seeing it clearly, but even still it looked disturbingly red.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Erin asked.

Holtzmann snorted. “Hospitals are for dudes.”

“Of course they are.” Erin sighed, shaking her head slightly. “Then you’re going to let me clean that up.”

“I’m fine,” Holtzmann whined, waving her arm around for emphasis. The effect was ruined by the way her face scrunched up in pain, and she quickly shoved her arm back under the water.

“I’m getting the first aid kid now,” Erin said.

“Okay, _mom_.”

Holtzmann pouted, twisting her face into an exaggerated frown and looking like a little kid in time out. Erin glared at her, but it was an effort to keep her expression stern. It was impossible to be genuinely annoyed at Holtzmann, no matter how frustrating she sometimes could be.

To Holtzmann’s credit, she kept the lab well stocked with emergency supplies. There were three individual first aid kits stashed in separate locations across the lab, along with several fire extinguishers, a variety of safety equipment that she required all of them to wear when handling dangerous equipment—and even on occasion wore herself, without any prompting from the rest of them—as well as an emergency shower she had installed the first week they moved in. Erin grabbed the closest first aid kit, a sizable container that Holtzmann had stocked herself, and brought it over to an empty lab table.

“Wash that out with soap and water first,” she said as she sat down on one of the lab stools. Holtzmann had her injured arm very obviously facing away from Erin, and she scrunched up her face and twisted her body even more awkwardly at Erin’s words.

“I already rinsed it off,” she said. “I’m doing it right now, look.”

"Yeah, but you’re not washing it with soap. It could get infected.”

“Okay, mom,” Holtzmann said again, dragging the word out even more. But she reached over and grabbed the bottle of hand soap, holding it up high over it head to show it off to Erin before getting to washing her burn.

"I’m not—oh, nevermind.” Erin sighed, letting the remark go with a shake of her head. It bothered her when Holtzmann teased her for mothering her, in a way Erin couldn’t quite pin down, but now wasn’t the time to press the issue.

Erin busied herself rummaging through the first aid kit, sifting through packages of bandages, antiseptic, medical tape, and an impressive variety of other supplies. She pulled out a roll of gauze, tape, and a tube of triple antibiotic ointment, and set them on the lab table.

“Happy now, mom?” Holtzmann asked, turning off the sink and waving her arm around again. “Squeaky clean!”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Get over here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“That’s better than mom, I guess.”

“Oh, sorry. Yes, _mom_.”

“Okay, I walked right into that one.”

Holtzmann grinned at her, her whole face twisting up into a smile worthy of the cheshire cat, and Erin couldn’t help but smile softly back. Holtzmann’s grins were infectious. At Erin’s smile, Holtzmann’s grin grew even wider, and she finally sat down on the stool next to Erin.

For a moment, Holtzmann just sat there, grinning at Erin but not moving otherwise. Erin waited patiently before asking softly, “Can I see your arm?”

Holtzmann hesitated another moment before obediently sticking her arm out for Erin to inspect. She turned her face slightly away, the fingers of her free hand drumming nervously on her thigh.

Erin was finally able to get a good look at the burn. Holtzmann was right; it wasn’t a serious burn. Erin wasn’t an expert on burns, but she was pretty sure Holtzmann’s classification of “second-degree, tops” was exactly right. The burn was about the size of her palm, bright red, a few areas slightly blistered, but overall it didn’t look too bad. It could have easily been much worse though, and the thought made Erin’s stomach twist.

"You really need to be more careful,” Erin said as she began unrolling the gauze.

“I was being careful,” Holtzman said. Erin raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.

“Hey,” Holtzmann protested. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“Okay,” Erin said as she cut the gauze into smaller squares, “What happened?”

Holtzmann gave a rough shrug. “I was expecting a small poof at most. Ended up being a medium poof.”

“That’s—that’s not really an answer, Holtzmann.”

“I was being safe, though. I had gloves and goggles and my lab coat on and everything. Super safe.”

“Okay, that’s true. Fair enough.”

Erin couldn’t argue with that. Holtzmann had been properly dressed. Come to think of it, lately she had been remarkably good about wearing safety equipment at all times. It seemed to be a new development, one Erin hadn’t really taken notice of before now.

“Okay, I’m gonna put this on it now,” Erin said, holding up the tube for Holtzmann to see. When she nodded, Erin unscrewed the cap and started to squeeze it out on her arm.

Holtzmann let out a sharp yelp then and Erin jerked her hand back.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, are you okay? What happened, did I hurt you, did I—”

She fell silent when she realized Holtzmann was laughing.

“I’m sorry,” Holtzmann said between laughs. “I couldn’t resist.”

Erin’s jaw fell open and she felt her face turn hot. Her hand tightened around the tube of ointment, and she felt some of the cream squeeze out onto her hand.

“That’s not funny, Holtzmann,” she said, voice tight. Her heart was pounding in her chest. “I thought I _hurt_ you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Holtzmann stopped laughing, her voice sobering. “I’m sorry, it was just a joke.”

“It wasn’t funny.”

Holtzmann pursed her lips together and tucked her chin into her neck. A few strands of hair fell over her eyes and obscured her face slightly. Erin could have sworn her cheeks had turned slightly pink.

“I’m sorry,” Holtzmann said softly.

Erin sighed. She really didn’t have it in her to be upset at Holtzmann, not when she knew that nothing she ever did was ever out of any sort of malice. Holtzmann was one of those rare people who seemed to be built out of nothing but good intentions, as if when god had made her he had forgotten to put any bad bones in her body.

“It’s okay,” Erin said. She wiped the spilled ointment off her hand onto her jeans before bringing the tube back up to Holtzmann’s arm. “Let’s try this again. No screaming this time, okay?”

“I pinky promise,” Holtzmann said, putting her pinky out towards Erin. Erin rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile as she hooked her pinky around Holtzmann’s. Holtzmann’s face split into another grin.

When Erin squeezed the ointment out this time, Holtzmann was quiet. It only took a few minutes for Erin to cover the burn in ointment and tape it up with gauze once Holtzmann cooperated.

“My arm got stuck,” Holtzmann said abruptly. Erin startled.

“What?”

“My arm got stuck,” Holtzmann repeated, wiggling her newly bandaged arm for emphasis. “I crossed some wires and there was a medium poof, but when I tried to move away my arm got stuck and my sleeve caught on fire.”

“Oh,” Erin said. “Well, I’m glad it wasn’t worse than this.”

She inspected Holtzmann’s arm, going over her handiwork to make sure everything was done right, when her eyes trailed over the rest of Holtzmann’s skin. She had been distracted by the burn before, but now, looking over the rest of her bare skin, Erin noticed the startling assortment of scars that covered her. Holtzmann was usually covered up for the most part, always wearing jackets or coats or long sleeves, and even when she wasn’t, Erin had never really been close enough to take notice of her skin. But now Holtzmann was sitting less than a foot away from her in only her underwear, and Erin couldn’t stop staring at the scattering of scars across her skin.

Holtzmann must have realized what Erin was staring at, because she crossed her arms across her chest and shifted uncomfortably before saying, “Like I said, I’ve had worse.”

“God, Holtzmann.” Erin didn’t know what else to say. Her stomach felt strange, like suddenly the sandwich she had eaten two hours earlier had soured in her stomach. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the scars. Holtzmann’s arms and chest were covered in dozens of little circular marks, varying from dark red to pale white and every shade in between. There were at least a dozen larger patches on both of her arms that were almost certainly burn scars, and several nasty looking slashes that might have been scars from wayward scraps of sharp metal. The shoulder facing Erin had a large, raised, horseshoe shaped scar that Erin couldn’t even begin to guess at, and there was a large cherry colored mark on her stomach that looked liked spilled liquid, as if someone had splashed red wine on her side and it had stained her skin.

“My job is dangerous,” Holtzmann said. “Kinda comes with the territory. Nuclear engineering isn’t exactly listed under the top ten safest jobs. Or top twenty. Probably not even the top hundred.”

“I know that.” Erin did know it. And honestly, she wasn’t really surprised. She saw what Holtzmann did daily. The real surprise would’ve been if she wasn’t covered in scars, truth be told. But knowing it and seeing it were two entirely different things.

“It’s really not a big deal,” Holtzmann said, fidgeting on the lab stool. She uncrossed her arms from her chest, then crossed them again, before uncrossing them a second time and bringing her hands to drum nervously against her thighs. Erin’s eyes followed the movement, and she took in the rows of thin, even lines carved into the skin of Holtzmann’s thighs, disappearing up under her boxers. There were dozens of them, all the pale white of old scars. Erin’s stomach twisted again, and she had to swallow several times. It suddenly felt like she couldn’t get in enough air.

Erin didn’t need to ask. It was clear what they were from.

“Ah, yeah.” Holtzmann coughed uncomfortably, wiggling and pulling her boxers down as far as she was able to. “That was just stupidity. An unfortunate teenage mistake.”

Erin didn’t say anything. It felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room and she was afraid if she moved now she might fall off her chair.

“So, um, I think I’m gonna go now,” Holtzmann said. “Put some clothes on, y’know. Unless you’re enjoying the view, of course.”

Holtzmann wiggled her eyebrows at Erin and twisted her face into a lopsided smirk, and it was a convincing effort, but Erin knew Holtzmann well enough by now to see that it was forced.

“Holtzmann,” she said, then trailed off. She didn’t really know what she wanted to say. There was acid in her stomach and it was bubbling up into her chest, but no words would come.

“Yes, mother?”

Erin gave a half hearted smile at that.

“Holtzmann,” she started again, then paused. She wasn’t good at this, at expressing things when she wanted to express them. Sometimes words just poured out of her in an anxious, impulsive burst, but other times, like now, they stubbornly caught in her throat and she couldn’t force them out.

And then all the sudden it was like a dam broke and words were flowing out in the anxious, impulsive way, and it wasn’t what she had wanted to say even though it was exactly what she wanted to say.

“When I was a kid, before I met Abby and after I started seeing the ghost, things were really bad for awhile. I lost all my friends and my parents refused to believe me. They weren’t exactly mean, they loved me and everything, but being told you’re a liar really hurts when you’re a kid, you know? And nothing against therapy, I’m all for it, but I really didn’t need therapy then, I needed a friend and I needed to be believed, and all the therapy did was make me doubt myself. For awhile I was really scared I was crazy. And the bullying at school got really bad. Like, really bad. Kids are—kids are really cruel.”

Erin paused, chewing on her lip. She had been staring at the ground, hands clenched into fists against her thighs, but she chanced a glance up at Holtzmann, who was staring at her in a soft, contemplative way. She met Erin’s gaze and gave her a slight, encouraging nod. Erin took a deep breath and stared back at the ground.

“Anyway, like I said, things got bad. I think that was the darkest point in my life. I felt hopeless. There were a lot of days I didn’t want to wake up. I never acted on it, but the thoughts were there. And sometimes—sometimes I was just so lonely and so scared and so angry, and I didn’t know what to do or where to go, and the only thing I could think to do was to take it out on myself. I was just a really scared kid, I was hurting, and I had no one to turn to. I’d hit things, sometimes. I’d hit myself. I thought it would make me feel better. It didn’t really, though. Nothing did.”

She fell quiet. She stared intently at the floor, eyes tracing the scuff marks from the stool. Then she felt a warm, rough hand grab hers, and she found herself looking up at Holtzmann. Holtzmann gave her a sad smile, squeezing her hand. Erin squeezed it back.

“Things got better, though,” Erin said. “I met Abby, and things were better. Just having a friend who believed me and cared about me made all the difference.”

“Abby’s something else, isn’t she,” Holtzmann said.

Erin chuckled. “She really is.”

“I never,” Holtzmann started, then paused, taking in a deep breath before speaking again in a rough, stilted way, “I never had a friend. Until Abby. And I didn’t meet Abby for a long time. It was—it was very lonely. And it was a very long time to be lonely.”

She stared at the floor in the same way Erin had done when she spoke. Her hand was still holding Erin’s though, and Erin squeezed it affectionately.

“I used to think I would never have a friend. I didn’t think I would ever have anyone who cared about me. I didn’t think anyone would even like me. Eventually I stopped caring, because _I_ liked me and I realized it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. But, you know, stupid teenage years and all that. Kids are mean and I was young and dumb and reckless.”

“Kids are mean,” Erin repeated in agreement. Holtzmann let out a rough cough of a laugh.

“It’s all in the past, though,” Holtzmann said. “I’m old and smart now. Still reckless, though.”

Erin laughed. “You’re smart and reckless, yeah, but you don’t get to call yourself old when you’re not even forty yet.”

Erin paused and scrunched up her nose.

“You’re not forty yet, right?”

Holtzmann threw her head back and barked out a laugh. “Not for eight more years.”

“Wait, what?” Erin felt her eyes go wide. “You’re only thirty-two?”

“Um, yes?”

“How— I mean I just thought you had a baby face— I didn’t realize—”

Holtzmann started laughing, genuinely now.

“Born in 1984,” she said, grinning proudly.

“God, you really don’t get to call yourself old then. You’re a baby.”

“And you’re my mom.”

Erin groaned, and Holtzmann laughed even harder. Erin couldn’t help it then, and she started laughing too, shaking her head.

“God you’re— You’re incorrigible,” she said between laughs, and Holtzmann started laughing even harder.

“You know you love me,” Holtzmann said with a wink.

“I do,” Erin said, surprising herself with the intensity of it. Holtzmann blinked once, then smiled.

“Love you too, Gilbert,” she said.

It was then that Erin noticed that their hands were still clasped together, and she let go, cheeks blushing warm. They were silent for a few moments, but it was an easy, comfortable silence. The pause gave Erin’s thoughts a chance to start running wild again, and she decided to take advantage of the moment and put to ease one more of her worries.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, fire away,” Holtzmann said easily.

“I know most of,” Erin paused, gesturing broadly at Holtzmann’s body, which earned her an amused eyebrow lift from Holtzmann, “ _that_ , is work related injuries. I get that. But you’re not intentionally reckless with your safety, are you?”

That same soft, contemplative expression crossed over Holtzmann’s face. She didn’t answer right away, but Erin waited patiently, giving her time to speak.

“No,” Holtzmann said, then she stopped herself. “Well, not anymore. Maybe at first. I didn’t really think about it. I wouldn’t say I was intentionally super reckless. But I wasn’t intentionally _not_ super reckless.”

Erin nodded. “Okay, yeah. I kind of thought so. I just wanted to make sure.”

“I like what I do, and I wanna keep doing it, and being safe about it helps me keep doing it, so I’m not gonna mess with that. Blowing stuff up is only fun as long as you get to keep doing it. And I don’t want you guys getting hurt by any of this stuff, and I can’t really be a hypocrite about safety if I want you guys to be safe, so I gotta show by example, right? ‘Do as I say, not as I do’ doesn’t really work well in practice. So I model good behavior.”

Holtzmann nodded decisively, as if what she said made perfect sense, and Erin had to smile and nod with her, because it did make sense in a very Holtzmann way.

There was another stretch of comfortable, companionable quiet.

“Hey, Holtzmann?” Erin asked suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“You know we all care about you, right? Me, Abby, and Patty? Even Kevin, I’m pretty sure he adores you, bless that big beautiful bag of rocks.”

She stopped to chuckle slightly, before mentally reminding herself to focus.

“I mean it, though,” Erin continued. “We all really love you. You know that, right?”

Holtzmann cocked her head to the side and chewed on her lip, looking a bit like a contemplative golden retriever with her mop of blonde hair falling over her face.

“Yeah,” she said, voice earnest. “I know.”

She smiled, and Erin had no doubt that it was genuine.

“Good,” Erin said, smiling back at it. “It’s important to me that you know that.”

“It’s important to me that you know we love you too,” Holtzmann said, surprising Erin with the sincerity of the statement. But then, this whole conversation was so surprising that she really shouldn’t have been surprised anymore.

“I know,” Erin said, and she meant it. She really did know, and it was a wonderful feeling.

“Good,” Holtzmann said, grinning widely. “And it’s also important to me that I go put some clothes on now.”

She paused, glancing over Erin’s shoulder to where her discarded clothes lay on the floor.

“And also make sure there’s no more medium poofs tonight,” she added.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Erin said, laughing.

“I’m off,” Holtzmann said, saluting Erin and bouncing off the stool. She paused mid step suddenly.

“Oh, one more thing,” she said, then leaned in and planted a kiss to Erin’s cheek.

“What—”

Erin’s face flushed hotly and Holtzmann cackled, skipping off before Erin could form any words.

“I just had to see your reaction!” Holtzmann called, still laughing. And Erin laughed too, because Holtzmann’s laugh was as infectious as her grin.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in months and then Ghostbusters comes along and I write 3,700 words in 3 hours. All hail this magical movie.
> 
> I've never actually dealt with burns first hand so I hope my burn first-aid knowledge isn't terribly inaccurate. Please do let me know if you see anything that you feel should be corrected.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
